It's Just a Year - The Final Trial - A Lesson in Mettle
by MissjudyK
Summary: Adam is weeks away from leaving for school. He and Hoss have gone on a camping trip to spend some time together while Ben is at home with Little Joe. Ben's sense of unease at his sons' absence when Hugh brings disturbing news.


**It's Just a Year**

 **The Final Trial – A Lesson in Mettle**

" _You can't leave me, Adam!" Natasha breathed in a sob, "Certainly not after last night."_

" _I must go. My regiment leaves for the front in two days. If I'm not back by then I'll be considered a deserter."_

" _Oh, Adam," she moaned as tears journeyed down her cheeks. "So what if they call you that. They'll not even remember you once this war ends and the militia stands down, so it would be of no consequence should there be one less soldier to die for their country tomorrow. And if they come after you, we'll go where they can't find us. Your father is a wealthy rancher who would finance our escape and life together."_

" _You have no understanding of such things, Natasha. The military does care; will continue to care, and will pursue me if I fail to advance with my unit. I would never be free of the cloud, and I could never ask my father to finance my cowardice. I was always forthright that my time with you was limited and that we would embrace these moments without promises to the future. You must admit this is true."_

" **Be quiet and go to sleep!"**

 _Natasha spun away from the dark, handsome soldier as her eyes flashed with angry fire. "I knew no such thing, Adam. I think that you have used me for your purposes and are now discarding me. This would seem an equal act of cowardice in my mind. You took my gift, and now leave me in peril."_

 _Adam grasped her shoulders as he stared her down; his voice dripped with sarcasm, "Natasha, did you not just say that your act last night was a gift? Are you now rescinding your gift and demanding a price for your gesture?"_

 _She stood stolid now, the fire in her eyes turning to ice as she glared at him._

 _The young soldier continued as his sarcastic tone deepened. "And may I say that the 'gift' seemed willingly and eagerly given. And although you imply otherwise, I am quite sure that I am not the first to whom this gift has been bestowed. I'm now thinking this was all a ploy to tap into my father's money. But there's a problem, my dear…it's my father's money, not mine."_

Adam was suddenly wide awake, and sat up while gaping at his brother. "Hoss, what are you reading!"

Hoss looked shocked over his brother's outburst and sputtered, "Jeb Smyth gave it to me. He said I should read it out loud to you 'cause you'd think it was funny."

"Jeb said _I'd_ think it was funny? Why would he think that?"

"It's about you."

"It is _not_ about me! "

"Well, it's a guy with your name, and Jeb says he's young, purdy, and a rich rancher's son just like you are."

Adam scrubbed at his face to wake up fully as he considered Hoss's explanation. "Let me see what you were reading." After Hoss handed him the magazine, he paged through it, inquiring, "Where did Jeb get this?"

"It's his ma's. He says she gets a magazine every couple months in a brown wrapper. She tells his pa that it's a woman's thing with recipes, and she always hides them under their bed instead of leaving them out. So one day when she was busy in the garden, Jeb looked under there and found this one and a bunch of others that had lots of stories but nary an instruction for cooking."

"I see. So he pilfered this from his mother and gave it to you because my name was in the story?"

"I guess that's about right."

"You should throw that in the fire before you leave it lay somewhere and Pa sees it."

"I can't do that. I have to give it back to Jeb. What are you so upset about, Adam? It's just a story about some soldier and a gal."

Adam considered how much to explain to his younger brother. "I think Jeb set you up, Hoss. He's a little older than you and knows that you wouldn't understand the inferences of such a story—but _I_ would. So he told you to read it to get a rise out of me."

The confusion persisted. "What do you mean by infer…infer…"

"Inferences, Hoss. It means that there's a whole lot more meaning behind the words you're reading than what you understand."

Hoss became indignant. "I do so understand. I read them words just right. I even practiced."

The older brother smiled to himself. "I'm sorry, Hoss. Maybe it's me that doesn't understand. Why don't you tell me what that story is about?"

The child's cheeks scrunched from side to side as he thought it out. "Well, it seems like there's this guy, Adam—like you…"

Adam bristled, "NOT like me!"

"Sure, sure, sorry…it's just some guy named Adam, who's a soldier spending some time with a gal named Natasha before he was to skedaddle with them other soldiers. Right?"

"So far. But what were they doing while they were together?"

"Seems like this Natasha gave Adam a purdy nice gift and figured Adam owed her to stay with her after that. Then Adam got mad and accused her of scheming after his money."

"You got the gist of it, Hoss, but do you know what kind of 'gift' the woman gave him?" Adam knew he was treading on boggy ground and didn't want to get into a discussion about this with his brother. But he also wanted to know how much the boy understood, and then maybe he'd have a talk with their father about it before he left for school. While he waited for Hoss's answer, Adam's mind began to wander.

It was early spring now and Professor Metz was due to return in less than a month. When he did, Adam would join him in the trek back East to test for school and then enroll in college once he was accepted somewhere. This last year at home had provided many odd opportunities and challenges—more than he'd ever dreamed possible at the time his father had asked him to stay around for one more year.

During these eleven months at home he'd been hazed, poisoned and shot. But he'd also gotten to know his brothers better, and had come to appreciate all the decisions and dilemmas his father faced on a regular basis. During the winter he'd had time to really learn what he'd only committed to memory before. Instead of parroting information, he now knew it and could work with it. His confidence was as high as his hopes.

Adam and Hoss had decided to come on this camping trip before he left. They hadn't brought Little Joe so they'd be free to hunt and explore. This Cartwright brother duet instead of trio was only possible because Adam had promised his youngest brother a special outing too. He and Hoss were spending their second night out. The trip had gone well, and they'd ridden side-by-side recalling the shenanigans of their years together. Adam had retold his Inger stories by the campfire the night before, and he'd tried to explain to Hoss why he had to go away to college. Hoss had seemed to understand and wished him the best; although he admitted he saw no value in going to school any longer than absolutely necessary.

Hoss drew him back to the present as he began to speak again. "I'm not sure what that _gift_ was, but since she was so gosh durn mad about it, it must have been something real special. Is that about right, Adam?"

The older brother turned away, so Hoss wouldn't see the grin he was unable to control, and coughed to hide his chuckle. "That's about right. It was a special gift that only a woman can give. We'll leave it at that for now." He was relieved when Hoss didn't press to know more about a woman's "special gift." The explanation had also confirmed that Adam would have to remind his father that it was time to talk to his middle son about women…or at least girls.

Adam handed the magazine back. "Put this in your saddle bag. We'll ride near the Smyth place on the way home, so we'll stop and you can give it back to Jeb. And for now, we'd best get some sleep."

They both got settled under their blankets, using their saddles for pillows, but as Adam tried to drift off, he thought of something more. "Say, Hoss?"

"Yeah, Adam."

"Don't let Jeb Smyth trick you into doing things; he doesn't care if you get into trouble. If he'd told you to read that story to Pa instead of me, you'd have had your backside tanned and extra chores to do for months to come. "

Hoss rose up on his elbow to see his brother better. "Why would Pa get mad about it? It was just a story about a soldier and a purdy girl's gift. You even said so."

 _Now I've done it_ , he lamented. _Should have just left it where it was_! But now he had to figure out how to explain this without really explaining anything. "First off, Pa would have been mad that Jeb took that magazine from his mother, and that you would have taken it from him."

"Oh, I suppose that would have gotten him wound up a little."

Adam chuckled. "Yup, that would have wound him up more than a little. You know how Pa is about privacy and keeping your hands off what belongs to others. Mrs. Smyth deserves to have her privacy, and there's no reason she shouldn't have that magazine, because it's written for adults, not children. Jeb may even think he knows what those stories are about, but he doesn't really."

"What are they about, Adam? I still don't understand."

"Those stories are called 'Romances,' and are published in women's periodicals like this one. They're meant to give the hard working ladies who read them a chance to feel young and romantic again. The stories aren't real; they're about people falling in love, or as in the story you read from, the schemes of ruthless women intent on finding their fortune by trying to fool young, handsome soldiers into marrying them. They _aren't_ meant for youngsters to read because they're about feelings and notions you don't know yet. Someday you'll understand how silly those stories are, but they aren't any different than the dime novels men liked to read that chronical the adventures of brave men who perform unbelievable feats of bravery. They're all melodramatic—too theatrical and exaggerated. These stories aren't the way for anyone to understand what being in love is like." He thought a minute. "You know, Hoss, we've had the perfect examples of a good marriage. Just remember what I've told you about Pa and your ma, or what you saw between Pa and Marie. Do you understand?"

"I guess so. I like Maddy Smyth. I sometimes think I'd like to marry her, but I'm not sure why."

Both boys laughed as Adam answered, "You'll figure it out as time goes on, and I don't know what it's all about yet either." He chuckled as he muttered to himself, "But I'd sure like to find out soon."

Hoss yawned as he settled back into a comfortable sleeping position. "Adam?"

"Yeah, Hoss?"

"Tell me about my ma again. I'm afraid I'm gonna forget while you're gone."

Adam slid his hand under his saddle grasping the Colt he had stashed there, and raised his head. He'd heard a rustling of branches. Convinced that it was a possum lumbering its way somewhere in the dark, he began his familiar recital. "Pa and I had been on the road for some months on our way west to find our fortune. I had a fever and Pa was broke when we came to a small town in Illinois hoping to find a place where Pa could earn a little money and I could get better before moving on to Missouri to join a wagon train for the trip across the prairie. Pa walked into a small store to get bread and milk and he met the store owner—a lovely, tall, blond woman who spoke with an accent. She was kind to Pa and when she found out about me, she gave him medicine for free. Later she even came to keep me company while Pa worked. At first Pa was impressed by her goodness, but he soon realized he cared for Inger. He quickly came to love her, Hoss, and so did I."

He stopped then as he heard the long, even breaths of his brother, and knew the boy had drifted to sleep as he often did as the stories of Inger enfolded him in dreams. Adam's eyelids soon drifted shut as well.

Off in the brush near camp, another set of eyes and ears had watched and listened. In fact, they'd been watching the boys for two days now, taking in their brotherly closeness and chatter. The lips of this creature slid back in a snake-like grin as its eyes glowed with the desire to put an end to this idyllic scene: even as its mind cautioned patience.

Ben tossed and turned, unable to find a comfortable sleeping position. He knew it was more than the absence of comfort that was keeping his mind from settling into rest. Adam and Hoss were had been gone two days already, and although he knew they were probably no more than 30 minutes from home, after the events of the past several months, he was ill-at-ease with the fact that they weren't under his roof.

The father had never ceased in thanking his Creator for the return of his son. Adam had languished in a sort of sleeping state for weeks after being shot, and very few had held hope that he would recover, much less return to a normal life. In fact, at the time, the doctor had recommended that he transfer his son to a hospital for his "remaining time."

But Hop Sing and the Cartwrights had never doubted, and they'd worked tirelessly to keep Adam included in family life and aware of what was happening around him. Even Abigail Jones had come out to read to him from his Harvard textbooks: she and her mother providing an unexpected and refreshing presence in the household of men for two weeks.

And then one day, his son had simply awakened, and after a period of mild confusion and readjustment, life for his son and the family had resumed a normalcy Ben had not thought possible during the days of hopeful waiting.

Although he wouldn't admit it to anyone else, he still often held his breath in fear that one day his son would be reclaimed by that unending sleep. It had taken the entire winter as he'd watched Adam gain strength and resume his studies without further effects from his ordeal before he could relax when the boy headed for bed each night. He still felt relief each morning as he heard sounds of life coming from Adam's room.

The hardest part for Ben to face was that his son was nearing his departure date for school and there was no way to stop him this time. He would have preferred having him remain home longer to make sure he was fully recovered, but he knew Adam would refuse. The thought had briefly rambled through his mind that he might withhold funds for school to prevent the boy from leaving, yet he knew that at age 17, Adam would leave, finding work to finance his dream if he had to. And since he was headed to Boston, Ben also knew that Abel would lend a hand in any way he could once he met his daughter's remarkable son.

These thoughts reminded him of his unfinished business with Abel Stoddard. Ben hadn't written to him about Adam's injury, preferring to wait for an outcome first. He knew that Elizabeth's father would be horrified at hearing what had happened, but he would be joyous that he'd recovered and that it hadn't delayed his departure. Abel's disappointment at having to wait an additional year to see his grandson had been almost as keen as Adam's.

Ben had finally decided that he would send a letter along with Adam to explain what had happened and his reasons for withholding the information. He suspected it would lessen the impact of the story by seeing the subject of the letter standing in front of him—healthy and whole.

Sleep remained elusive, and Ben was awakened from his fitful dreams when Little Joe bounded into his room after a hasty knock. He was neither refreshed from the night nor willing to get up yet, but when his youngest son was up and moving there was no lounging allowed. Seeing the child's excited face always made him smile as he was doing now, yet he couldn't shake the uneasiness that had been his nighttime companion.

Little Joe jumped onto the bed. "Hey, Pa, you gotta get up! There's no one around and there's nothin' to do."

"Nothing to do, you say? How about doing your work from Miss Jones or straightening up your room?"

"Aw Pa, it's the weekend and I don't need to do no school work, and most of the mess in our room is from Hoss, so why should I have to clean it up?"

"You have a point there, but I'm sure not all of it is from Hoss. Why don't I get up and we'll have some breakfast and then figure out what to do.

The child was out the door before Ben could rise, hollering back that he was going to get dressed and meet him downstairs.

Together at the table consuming hot cakes and bacon, Ben began to tease his youngest son. "So, did you say you wanted to spend this beautiful day helping me grease wagon axles?"

"Huh?" The child's face froze in mid-chew as he considered his father's statement. "Didn't say nothin' of the sort, Pa." An impish smile turned the youngsters syrupy lips. "As I recall, you was talkin' about goin' fishin'. Ain't that right?"

"I didn't say that, but I think that if you put that thought into proper grammar, I'll consider it."

"Huh?"

Ben put his fork down to look directly at his child. "I want you to say that I was talk- _ing_ about go _ing_ fish- _ing_. "

The child laid his fork on the table as well and stared back at his father with narrowing eyes. "I just said that. Why should I say it again, Pa?"

"I want you to repeat it so you to stop dropping the g's at the end of words like say- _ing_ and go- _ing_. So go ahead and repeat what you said."

The child sat thoughtfully, unable to remember what he had said in the first place, and began to fidget as he saw his father's eyebrows arching from normal to high alert. Little Joe stared intently at his father and noted, "Adam does that too, Pa, 'cept he only raises one eyebrow instead of both. But I always know he's getting testy when that one eyebrow of his starts creeping up to his hairline. He must have learned that from you…half-way anyhow."

Ben admit defeat as he chuckled, "How old are you now, Joseph?"

"Six, last birthday, Pa, don't you remember?"

"I do, it's just sometimes I'm sure you're closer to 30."

"I'm not. So are we going?"

"Going where, Joseph?"

"Fishin', Pa, Like you said we was."

"But…I didn't…you said I said…but I never..." Ben knew he'd been licked and tricked by this six-year-old con artist and raised his hands in submission. "We're going fishing. Now finish your breakfast and then straighten up your room. Once that's done, bring me your primer and we'll read a few pages before setting out. Hop Sing can pack a lunch for us while you do as I've asked, and I get our gear together."

The boy's protests were dropped as he watched his father's face change from cheerful to that "watch it, son" look that meant there was trouble brewing if you didn't do as you were told, and Joe made the quick decision to do just that.

It seemed like hours before the last sentence about the spotted dog was read and Little Joe could escape the house. He was waiting for his father on the wagon seat when Ben exited. "Hurry up, Pa. Those fish ain..aren't getting any younger you know."

"Neither am I, Joseph," Ben sighed.

"Huh?"

"Just move over so I can sit down and we'll get out of here." He tousled the curly mop of hair on the child sitting next to him. "Best put your hat on, son. The sun's pretty warm today and I don't want you getting raw while we land all those big ones in the pond."

Hoss stretched as he yawned, and looked over to see if Adam was awake. As usual, his older brother's blanket was already neatly rolled and resting on his saddle. Yet there was no sign of the actual brother, and Hoss's heart did a few flip-flops of worry as he rubbed his eyes to get the last blurriness of sleep to clear. He relaxed as he saw the familiar profile of Adam's hat protruding over a mass of creosote brush, and he watched with interest as his brother moved stealthily around the perimeter of camp, peering under bushes and around boulders. "What you doin', Adam?" he called out as Adam jumped at the break in silence.

"I'll be back in a minute, Hoss. Just stay put."

The youngster stood to get a better look at what his brother was up to and noticed that he had the Colt pistol in his hand, extended forward in readiness. Hoss's heart began to thump again, wondering what in tarnation was going on. He breathed a sigh of relief as Adam holstered the pistol and came walking back toward camp. "What were ya doin' brother?" he asked again, this time with a noticeable hint of fear in his voice.

"I heard rustling in the brush over there during the night. Figured maybe some animal got himself pinned on the thorns and I wanted to check it out once it got light.

"You find anything?"

"A bunch of small prints: probably a possum. Let's make some breakfast and get moving." Adam didn't mention the other footprints made by a man's pointed boots. One person had moved between their camp and a sheltered area where a horse had stood. The number and varying depths of the impressions behind the brush indicated that someone had walked, crouched and even sat while observing them. A shiver ran down Adam's spine as he realized how long a period they'd been observed, and he had to wonder why.

Hoss had thrown more tinder onto the fire to get it going again while Adam arranged bacon in a frying pan and set it on the edge of the rocks surrounding the growing flames. He watched the meat begin to sizzle and curl as he went through the possibilities of who'd been watching them. They may have been made by a drifter: someone who'd seen their fire and came up close enough to decide whether there was any promise of a hot meal, or better still, cash and goods that he might take away at gunpoint. If that was the case, he'd probably decided that two brothers on a camping trip wouldn't have anything worth stealing. Adam grinned as he thought about the "goods" they had along. Pa always kept a supply of older gear for "fun" outings. He said his sons were prone to leaving half of it behind anyway, so there was no need to take anything good. He had the older model Colt and a long rifle, so chances were that the rider had shooting equipment that was better than theirs as well.

The more likely possibility for the observation was that their father had "suggested" to Hugh that one of the hands ride out to check on his boys, maybe even follow them at a distance for the entire trip. Adam knew that Pa was uneasy about their absence, and it would be just like him to keep a watchful eye—while making sure he could deny his over-protectiveness by saying he'd only expressed an idea that "others" had decided was worth pursuing. His uneasiness ebbed as Adam realized this was the most likely explanation, and he was sure he'd find another set of boot prints outside their camp tomorrow morning. He decided that if he heard the rustling early enough tonight, he might invite the observer to join them for supper.

As they ate their bacon and biscuits, Hoss asked, "How come Pa let you have that pistol again, Adam? He was so mad that you took it that I didn't never expect he'd give it back to you. You took me for a fright when I saw you holdin' in outside camp earlier."

Adam laughed. "You know better than to think that Pa _let me have_ the Patterson. He said I might as well use it, but he made me _earn_ the privilege of having it. I had to shoot that Colt every day until my hand was raw." He held out his hand to show Hoss the thickened skin at the base of each finger on his right hand. "I've still got the callouses that formed after the blisters went away. Pa made me shoot at targets…even in the rain and snow. He wouldn't let me wear the gun until I knocked every last target down from a quick draw—time-after-time. Once I could do that he placed things all over the yard that he'd holler out and point to, and I had to hit all those dead-on too. I was outside some days in winter when it was so cold my nostrils froze together."

"How come I never saw you doing that?"

"You were at school or staying in town with the Cass's when the weather was bad. Pa wouldn't do it when you were around: said he didn't want you getting any ideas about having a pistol yet."

"Why was Pa so mean about it?"

"I wasn't saying that he was mean, Hoss, just that he was dead serious about it. He didn't ever want me to be in a situation again where I couldn't handle what I was holding. I thought I was pretty good with this gun but I wasn't even close to being prepared when I had to shoot at Randall. Pa figures that after you do something enough times, it becomes second nature. You have too much to think about when you're staring down the barrel of someone else's gun that you can't stop to think about what it takes to shoot it."

"Whaddaya mean by that?"

"Pulling your gun has to be trained and sure."

"Boy, I can't wait till Pa lets me shoot a pistol."

"Hold on, little brother. Pa'll get you going with a rifle soon enough, but be patient about the other. Pa tried to warn me that _wearing_ a gun is an experience you should postpone as long as possible. I found that out the hard way because I convinced myself he was being an old fogey about it. It'll be better for you to wait and learn the right way…Pa's way."

Adam began to clean up the dishes while Hoss smothered the fire with sand as he asked, "We going to check on Pa's old trap lines today like you said we would?"

"I'll show you where we used to go and we'll see what we find up there. If there's evidence of good pelt animals, we'll talk to Pa about letting you run a small line by yourself. The area we'll look at isn't too far from the house so you could ride up and check it easily enough. And if you tell Pa that you want to earn some money for those boots you saw in the catalogue, he'll appreciate that you thought up a solution."

"Yeah, he just might at that."

Ben had cut a thin branch off a sapling to use as a stringer and the fishing duo of Cartwright and Cartwright had managed to fill it half full of pan fish before taking time off for lunch. Having consumed the chicken, biscuits and cake that Hop Sing had packed for them, both father and son stretched out in the shade for a quick nap before resuming their fishing. Ben had just dozed into a peaceful sleep when he was brought back to wakefulness.

"Pa, can I ask you a question?"

"No, Joseph, I'm sleeping."

The child sat up to stare at his father. "No you're not! If you were asleep, then you wouldn't answer me."

Ben began snoring loudly for a few seconds, before offering, "See, I am sleeping."

The skepticism was evident in the boy's conclusion. "Well, Pa, some of you might be sleeping, but your mouth isn't, so could you please answer my question?"

Ben sighed as he chuckled. "Sure son. What's on your mind?"

"Why didn't Adam take me camping with him and Hoss?"

"I've already explained that they were going to be gone too many days for you to go along."

"Aw shucks. I woulda been just fine with them. I'm not afraid to sleep outside and can almost ride a horse pretty good. "

"That's true, Little Joe, but I think Adam was more worried about how _he_ would handle it rather than how you would handle it?"

"What you sayin', Pa?"

"Nothing. Just remember that Adam is going to take you out for one night before he leaves. I feel that'll be the right amount of time…for both of you."

Ben had just settled back and was dozing off when his son broke in again. "Can I ask another question, Pa?"

"I'm sleeping, Joseph."

Little Joe gave a hearty laugh. "No you ain't. You're still talkin' to me."

"Joseph, what did I tell you this morning about using correct grammar and pronouncing your g's?"

"Well, Pa, that was gonna be my question. You tell me to say the right words, and to say my g's and stuff, but Hoss hardly never says his g's and say's ain't a whole lot more'n me, and you don't holler at him. So why not?"

"I correct both of you equally."

"Maybe so, but with all the correcting you do, you haven't changed Hoss a lick and you don't punish him or nothin'. Seems like since he's been around six years longer'n me he should be talking pretty good by this time."

Ben sat up as he realized the wisdom of his youngest child. "You might be right about that Little Joe." The father thought about what his son had said and knew he was easier on Hoss when it came to grammar. Maybe he was too lenient because he really didn't notice it much anymore. With thought, the answer became clearer. "Joseph, you had your mama a lot longer than either of your brothers and she insisted that you learn to speak correctly and would be saddened to hear the way you murder your words sometimes. Hoss learned to speak while we were traveling with groups of people who talked that way and it sort of fits him…just like his name. He's a big friendly fellow and his manner of speaking is part of his charm. But you are not Hoss, and you're right: I need to be more firm with your brother, not less firm with you."

Little Joe was about to say more when the two spotted a rider approaching.

Their cattle foreman, Hugh waved his hat and called out as he rode up. "Thought it might be you two out fishing. Having any luck?"

Little Joe scrambled to the pond's edge to hold up the branch laden with their catch. "We got lots of them and are going to have real good supper when we get home. You wannna come along back with us?"

Hoping to speak to Ben alone, Hugh helped Little Joe bait up and toss his line back in the water before heading over to speak to his boss. "I was glad to see you over here: saved me a ride to the house."

"Is there trouble with the herd?"

"Oh, no, no…nothing like that. A couple of the guys have seen a lone rider on and off now for a time. They thought at first it was drifters passin' on through, but now they think it's the same person."

"What do you make of it?"

"Not too much. You've got a lot of land here. He might be poachin' a few animals or just taking a few days to rest up before movin' on. He might not even realize he's on private property."

Ben laughed as he pronounced, "Then I suspect we'll have to tell him."

"See, here's the thing, Mr. Cartwright. Several men have tried to ride up to him, but he always rides off before they can get close enough to get a word in or even a good look for that matter. "

"Are you worried about this, Hugh?"

"More curious than worried, Boss. Some of the men think he's scouting for a band of rustlers, trying to see where they can best strike without too much interference from us."

"And what do you think?" The hair on Ben's neck was beginning to rise in warning.

"I'm thinking it might be best to find this guy and ask him ourselves, and was hoping you'd ride with me. I found a pretty good set of prints at the last place he was seen and rode them for a while before deciding to come get you."

Ben could see a look of worry now in Hugh's expression and wondered at the change. "Any particular reason that you came to get me rather than following him yourself?"

"Well, sir, the tracks aren't far from here so I thought it best to come for you because…" Hugh looked around to make sure Little Joe was still out of earshot, "Them lone tracks seem to be following another set of dual tracks that belong to your boys. I recognized the print from Adam's horse; the shoe has a little notch in it that makes a distinctive mark. Now this might just be a coinci…"

Ben didn't wait for Hugh to finish. He left their picnic things as he ran for Little Joe, who responded in fury at having his day of fishing cut short.

"What's going on, Pa! How come you're taking me home? I didn't do nothin' wrong, did I?"

"You didn't do anything wrong, Joseph. I just have to attend to some business that can't wait. I am so sorry."

The child remained quiet and sullen on the rapid trip back to the house, offering one last accusation before running to his room. "It ain't fair, Pa! It just ain't."

The saddened father couldn't worry about the hurt feelings of his youngest son: not when his uneasiness over the other two was coming to fruition. He told Hop Sing of the situation as he gathered his rifle and extra powder and shot, and headed outside. Hugh had Ben's horse ready to go by the time he reached the barn and the two let out at full gallop.

As they reached the area where Hugh had found the intersecting set of tracks, Ben realized that his sons had kept their promise to stay within a short distance of the ranch, making him breathe with relief that he and Hugh might find their camp within a short time and be able to figure out what was going on.

They'd ridden about an hour when it became obvious what was going on and it left both men stunned. The single tracks certainly seemed to follow the set from the Cartwright boys and they noted that the lone rider would pull over, leave his horse, and walk to a place behind a rock or bush. What made this ominous was that as they'd follow the boys' tracks a little further, theirs stopped too; their boot prints indicating that they'd walked around—probably doing some hunting or exploring. This same pattern occurred several times as they continued on, and it seemed obvious that the lone rider was stopping at vantage points where he could watch Adam and Hoss from a distance. Evening was closing in fast as the two trackers found a campsite.

Hugh dismounted and checked the ashes of the fire. "Some of these embers are still warm, and I can see where two bedrolls were placed, so I think this is where your boys stayed last night."

Ben had moved to the perimeter of the camp and found what made his heart race. He could barely speak as he hollered, "Here!"

Finding boot prints behind the brush proved that Ben's sons had been observed while they camped, and the addition of Adam's prints as he must have discovered those of the intruder, made them wonder if something sinister had happened. Thankfully, with a little more tracking, they were able to conclude that the single rider had left alone, while the boys had ridden off together as before.

Ben was stymied. "It seems likely that Adam realized that they'd been watched." He looked toward Hugh hoping the man would be able to give him the answer he needed. "So why did they ride on this morning instead of coming home?

"The way I reckon it is that while they know they were watched, they don't know they're being followed, and probably figured like the ranch hands did, that it was a drifter who was looking over their camp—and unlikely to be someone who poses a threat. Knowin' your boys, they weren't about to let some nosy drifter alter their plans. And to honest, Ben, we don't know that ain't just the truth. All we got to go on is some tracks that show someone watching your boys. He's been watching them for some time, so if he was gonna make a move; he'd have done it by now. He's got nothing to gain by waiting, is how I see it."

"You're probably right, but I still don't like it one bit. One man doesn't follow another without something in mind, so we should keep moving."

"It's gonna be impossible to track them with night comin' on." Hugh pointed toward a wooded area farther up the rise. "Seems like the boys are headed that way. You have any idea where they're going?"

The evening shadows made the landscape less familiar to Ben as he got his bearings. He'd traveled much of this land with his boys when they'd been in the pelt business and he let his mind go back to those days, following the routes he'd taken and the places they'd stayed. "We used to have a line in that stand of trees, and would camp there for a few weeks at a time when we were trapping. I bet they're headed over there."

"Do you know your way well enough to make it in the dark?"

"I'll figure it out somehow."

He'd been watching these two for a couple days now and couldn't figure them out. They seemed close for brothers—almost like they were happy to be together. He'd never been that way with his own brother; all they'd ever done was fight. He hadn't laid eyes on any of his family in nearly 15 years. That was no loss to him as he reckoned it: the farther away from them he was, the better he liked it.

All that talking these two did made his skin crawl and want to start shooting somebody. They'd spent the entire day in the woods making snares and catching rabbits and squirrels. The heavier one even shimmied up a tree when he thought he saw a raccoon, yelling something about wanting to make a coon-skin cap. He did wish he could have a chunk of that rabbit meat they were roasting. All he'd had to eat over the last several days was cold beans and beef jerky.

He was keeping his distance from their camp tonight. Last night he'd seen one of them listening as he'd jostled the bush he was hiding behind, and he wasn't in the mood to be found just yet. Let them have their last supper together and then he'd put an end to all this brotherly fussing once and for all. Yet the aroma of roasting meat made his stomach growl as his mouth watered, and he wondered if he shouldn't get it over with before they ate, and then he could sit down to a right fine supper.

In the end he decided to hold out a bit longer. He wanted to let his excitement build as he planned the final confrontation. There was no doubt that the kid would be surprised, and he was looking forward to seeing the fear. Sometimes he swore he could smell the fear on the man he was about to kill, and he closed his eyes in remembrance of the times he'd experienced that pure rush of excitement. He'd only had one failure, and he was about to right that. His biggest satisfaction would come as he watched Adam Cartwright fall and die—and this time he would make sure he stayed dead.

"That was some good rabbit, weren't it, Adam?"

"That it was, Hoss." Adam continued to visually sweep the perimeter of camp as he finished the last of his meal. He and Hoss had done a lot during the day and there hadn't been enough time to do a quick check for tracks before it got too dark to see. The truth was that he'd felt they'd been followed throughout the day, but he hadn't seen anything to confirm that. Although he'd come to the conclusion that this was a ranch hand following them at the behest of their father, it still made him uneasy. He was deep in thought as Hoss's voice broke through.

"If you think it's good, why didn't you eat more? You been gnawin' on that piece for the whole time. You didn't eat enough to keep a coyote filled, much less a full grown man. Ain't you feelin' good?"

"I feel fine…maybe I'm just tired. It's been a long day with a lot of critter chasing." Adam chuckled to relieve the tense look on his brother's face. He had seen Hoss's eyes narrow and his lips purse as he waited to hear the status of his brother's health. Adam had noticed this same look on his father's face each time he didn't eat as well as usual or went to bed early, and he knew they feared he might one day drift back to sleep and never wake up. He'd wondered the same thing himself at first, and had spent many a restless night unwilling to sleep. But as his strength returned, he became confident the ordeal was over. There were times, like tonight, after a long day involving physical and mental activity, when he experienced extreme exhaustion, and wanted nothing more than to curl up in his blanket and drift off. But he knew he needed to stay awake long enough to inspect the area around their camp before turning in.

"You do look beat, that's for sure. You positive ya ain't feeling poorly?"

"I'm positive. Let's get this place cleaned up and then I'm going to take a walk before we turn in."

"You going out to look for more of them footprints?"

Adam's eyes flew open in surprise,"Wha…how do you know about the footprints?"

It was Hoss's turn to chuckle. "You forgetting that you taught me how to track when I was just a kid?"

"You're still 'just a kid' in case you hadn't noticed." Adam sighed as a smile replaced his surprise. "I should have known you'd spot what I saw. You're a better tracker now than I'll ever be. I guess it's in your blood."

"Pa says it's because I was born on the plains and I have the spirit of an explorer, or somethin' like that."

"I think he's probably right." Adam filled their plates with sand, scrubbing them to remove the remains of their supper. "I don't want you to worry about those prints, Hoss."

"I'm not worried. Are you worried? I just figure it's one of the hands that Pa's got trailin' us. He ain't quite over the fright of you almost dying."

Adam stopped scrubbing to look directly at his brother, impressed with the boy's intuition and good sense. "I know you don't like school, Hoss…but you're as smart as they come. You know there'll be comparisons between us since I can't study enough, and you'd rather be outside learning in other ways. If it happens, don't pay them any mind. Just be who you want to be."

Hoss looked down, seemingly fascinated with his boots as he replied, "I already know what that's like, Adam. I once heard Mrs. Murphy call me the 'big dumb Cartwright kid'."

It had been some time since Adam had held his brother. When they were younger and traveling, and even as they'd finally settled on the Ponderosa and run trap lines with their father, Adam had comforted Hoss, settled him for sleep, and taken care of him when he was ill or hurt. But that had stopped once Marie joined the family and Hoss got the mother he'd always longed to have.

Adam set the plates down and walked to Hoss, taking his shoulders and ordered him to look up. "Don't ever let anyone define who you are, Hoss. I mean that."

"You may mean it, Adam, but I don't understand what you mean."

"Don't let Mrs. Murphy or anyone else make you feel that you're not perfect just the way you are. You're _not_ dumb. In fact, you're one of the smartest people I know. Even Miss Jones says you pick things up so fast she has trouble keeping the rest of the group caught up to you. And beyond that, you know things that other people will never know, because you learn by watching. You're intuitive. And before you ask, it means that much of what you know isn't taught to you; it's good instincts. You're full of natural knowledge with a mind and heart that knows what to do with it. I remember your mother being that way. She sensed what people needed and knew what to do…and that included knowing what to do for Pa and me."

The blush in Hoss's cheeks was visible even in the low light of the fire. "Gee, thanks, Adam. I don't think anyone's ever called me smart before. I know I don't talk good like you, and I figure people wonder why I'm not more like you. I do like to learn new stuff, but not out of a book."

"That's what I'm talking about! And just because people think I'm smart doesn't mean they think I'm 'smart.'" Hoss's look of puzzlement made Adam laugh as he explained. "Mrs. Murphy said something about me too. She forgets that we Cartwright boys have very good ears, and she was talking softly to Mrs. Jones one day when I was at Cass's store when she said I might be intelligent, but I sure wasn't smart because a smart man wouldn't leave the Ponderosa to go back East for something as silly as schooling. She figured that with all the money the Ponderosa will bring in one day, I was a fool to leave it behind to go do something else. I think she suspects I'm giving up far more than I'll be getting."

Hoss's smile crossed from ear to ear. "Well, I'll be. Maybe Mrs. Murphy calls you the tall dumb one, or the older dumb one."

"Maybe she does. So how about we both show her what we can do. I'll go to college and learn as much as I can, and you keep doing the best at what makes you the happiest. "

The younger boy's eyes returned to his boots. "You sure you gotta leave, Adam. It's gonna be strange here without you."

" _Happy the man who, like Ulysses, has made a fine voyage, or has won the Golden Fleece, and then returns, experienced and knowledgeable, to spend the rest of his life among his family!_ * That's a quote I really like and I think it's what will happen for me. I know it'll be hard with one less brother to do chores and torment Pa, but once I get through with school, I'll come back home and it'll be even better. Think about it: once I'm gone, you'll be the oldest and then you'll be in charge when Pa's not around. That means you can tell Little Joe what to do. You'll even get my room."

"Yeah, them's all good things, but there's just one thing wrong with all that."

Adam smiled, "What's that?"

"You won't be here."

The older brother had continued to hold onto Hoss's shoulders as they'd talked, and now encircled the boy, pulling him toward him in an embrace. "I promise it will be fine, Hoss, and before you know it, I'll be back…and by then you'll probably wish I would stay away."

The moment passed as both boys set to cleaning up and decided they'd walk the outskirts of camp together to see if they could catch whichever ranch hand was on duty for the night.

"Anything looking familiar, Boss?

The sun had sunk too low to see anything but shadows, and the two men were left with little choice except to stop for the night or go with a gut feeling as to where the boys were headed and keep moving.

"The landscape sure has changed a lot in the seven years since I've been up here. Everything's gotten bigger and the trail seems overgrown, but I'm pretty sure we've been on the remnant of what used to be a trap line that ran along a creek, and if my thinking is correct, the area where we used to camp is off to our right and not more than 20 minutes away."

Hugh raised his head as he sniffed the air. "I've been smelling a campfire for some little time now, but was thinkin' maybe it was just my imagination."

"I've noticed it too, but there's a good breeze blowing away from us so it's been elusive. Let's head that way and see what we find."

While Adam stowed their utensils, Hoss slit two green branches far enough to pack the gap with dried moss and grass he'd found, making torches for them to use as they walked the edge of camp looking for a visitor.

They circled around and found nothing, with Hoss seeming disappointed as he offered, "Looks like they gave up. Whoever it was must'a realized that we were on to them and headed home."

"I doubt that, Hoss. Would you want to report to _our_ pa that you 'thought' everything seemed fine and came back while we were still out here?"

"You may be right about that, but they ain't here neither."

"Oh, they're here alright: just being a little more careful tonight is all…staying a little farther out, but close enough to come running if something happens."

Hoss yawned. "I suppose we could make a wider sweep, but I'm tired. Maybe we should just turn in and let them be. Hey, Adam: about that rabbit. I done skinned him real good didn't I?

"You did indeed. If Pa lets you go ahead with a line, you'll have no trouble dressing those pelts." Hoss's yawn became contagious as Adam followed suit. "I think you're right about heading back in and getting some sleep. We're going home first thing tomorrow and have to drop off that magazine by the Smyths' so we'll want to get going early."

Both boys heard the snap of branches and turned to see their observer standing within a stone's throw. But it was only Adam's jaw that dropped as he recognized who it was. He spoke one word, "Randall."

His laugh range out against the cool night air and floated away on the breeze. "What's the matter boy, you look like you seen a ghost!"

"In a manner of speaking, I did… I heard you were…"

"Dead? Yeah, well, seems there's a lot of that goin' around, seeing as I thought the same about you."

"Hugh told pa that he'd met a man who buried you…even had your gun and horse and said your hand had become gangrenous. You can't fake something like that…unless you paid someone to say it." Adam's confusion had his mind whirling, but he knew he had to get ahold of his fear.

"Nah, payin' someone to lie don't work. They can always be paid better to tell the truth. No, this time fate was on my side. Found a man snake-bit, and wouldn't you know it, it was in the same hand as my hurtin' one." He laughed again, "That wound Hugh gave me healed up real quick, while that poor fella up and died from the poison of that rattler. I wasn't sure how it would suit me to exchange my stuff for his, but figured if _you_ died and your pa came lookin' for me, he'd hear that I'd kicked the bucket. It worked too."

"It does seem to have suited you purpose."

Randall looked toward Hoss. "Don't you just love how pretty that older brother of yours talks? 'Suit my purpose…' Hell yes, it suit my purpose. I been riding around between Virginia City and Carson, right across your lovely Ponderosa and no one paid me no mind. Heard in Carson that some doc had been coming to see the high-and-mighty Cartwrights after the oldest son got shot, and was saying there weren't no chance of you living. I felt pretty good about that. After a while, I got curious and rode out to your camp and listened in on some of what the hands were talkin' about. And to my wonder, I heard that some drifter had found my horse and gun next to that corpse and everyone figured it was me, just like I'd hoped."

Adam regained his mettle, drew himself up and now stood tall against the man who'd nearly killed him. "So why didn't you just keep riding? It would seem you got a clean slate in the ruse and could have gone anywhere you wanted. What made you come back here?"

"Went west for a bit, and then decided to head toward Kansas and find work there. But coming back, I stopped in town just for old-time's sake, hoping to hear the sad news of your passin'." Randall paused as he took his hat and laid it over his heart before laughing. "And what do I find out, but that you had risen from certain death. I wanted to ride on…I truly did, but that gnawing kept on in my gut, and I knew I had to finish what I started with you. No loose ends, I always say. If I make someone dead, I want them to stay that way. So I been watching your house and saw you two headin' out on this here little trip."

Adam's voice was flat as he asked, "So what is it you want from me this time?"

"Same as last time: a fair fight. I see you're still wearin' that gun so let's have at it and get this over with."

"You're the one who's been watching us at night, and probably during the day as well, so in all this time, why didn't you just shoot me and get it over with. Why wait for _this_. You could have been long gone before anyone even realized we were dea…" Terror flooded him: Hoss! His heart seized as he realized this maniac couldn't leave Hoss alive to give up the secret of who had done the shooting. "Forget I asked that. Hugh told me about people like you the last time I went through this."

Randall's hackles began to rise along with his anger. "What do you mean by 'people like me?' What did that old fool, Hugh have to say about me anyway?"

Adam had taken the advantage with one well-placed comment and he used it. "He said that you weren't a real gun fighter; you're a coward who's too afraid to go up against someone who might actually outdraw you. You only pick fights with kids or men who aren't used to shooting. Their uncertainty at the draw puts them at such a disadvantage that you're a sure winner."

The moon had risen, and its light made everything easier to see. The look on Randall's face had changed from a sneering smirk to one of pure rage. "You don't know what you're talkin' about, kid. I gave you a fair chance…even let you draw first. I always let my opponent draw first. They even call that something…oh yeah, it's my _signature_."

"Signature? Ha! The signature of a coward." Adam knew he was cutting close to the man's soul, and continued slicing. "Sure you let me draw first because you've learned that by giving what seems an advantage to the person facing you, they don't see you as the threat you are. For that instant, they think that maybe they've got you wrong: that maybe you really are going to allow a fair fight. When you told me to draw, I thought I'd shoot and you'd never get your gun out of your holster. I was wrong. I had no instinct to kill—especially when you didn't have your gun drawn. For that instant, I doubted what I had to do. You counted on that greenhorn fear and uncertainty. You only torment neophytes like me, and that makes you a coward…pure and simple."

The man was sputtering as he went on the defensive. "I am not a coward!" he screamed. "I always let the other guy shoot first. They're fair fights and I stand up to each of them that calls me out."

Adam was laughing now, and he thanked the stars that his brother had picked up on what was happening and was laughing too. Even at this moment of terror he realized again how intuitive his younger brother was. "Call you out? Call _you_ out, Randall? I never called you out. In fact I tried to stay as far away from you as possible while you crawled around like a snake—on your yellow belly—following me, just like now, to find me when I was most vulnerable, and then struck before I had time to back away."

"First you call me a coward and now you say I'm yella?" He screamed. "You back that up with actions, sonny!" Randall took his stance: legs apart, hand levitating near his gun.

"Hoss, you get on your horse right now and ride out; take mine too so this coward can't follow you without going for his own mount. Get Pa and bring him back here; I'll need him one way or the other.

"But, Adam," Hoss's voice was tinged with fear, "I can't leave you now."

"Do as I say, Hoss! This is one time there'll be no argument: understand? I don't intend to die, and I'm gonna make sure I slow this yellow-bellied snake up a little even if I do. But I can't do what I have to if I'm worrying about what's going to happen to you."

The fear was gone, replaced by resolve. "I'll go Adam… But I'm bettin' on you this time. "

"Thanks, Hoss. Now go. I can stall this for a bit until you're safe, but hurry up. You can ride bareback so don't worry about a saddle."

Hoss was moving toward the horses when he turned back toward his older brother. "Adam…"

"Yeah, Hoss?"

The child didn't know how to say what he was feeling. He was afraid he wouldn't see his brother again, and wondered how he could say all that was in his heart. After quickly considering the options, he said, "I'll see you later," and left.

The turn of events had gotten Randall so steamed that in his moment of disadvantage he didn't object to Hoss leaving. As he figured it, there was no way the kid could get home and back with help before this was over, so it wasn't important. Hoping to rattle his opponent, he began to taunt, "What's the matter sonny, don't want your brother to see the shame of you dying?"

Adam waited until Hoss had cleared the camp before answering. "You got that partly right. I don't want my brother to see this charade. There's no glory in this fight or in this kind of death and I don't want him to think that this is the way to settle anything. "

"You and them fine words of yours; it's too bad you have to die. I think you just might amount to something if you live so maybe I should just ride out of here and let you be." His words had an effect he hadn't planned for: they'd added hope to the equation, and he saw Adam relax—just a little—and it made Randall's next words seem all the more bitter. "Nah, knowin' you were still alive would drive me crazy. So let's get this done so I can move along."

Just as the last time he'd squared up against this man, Adam's thoughts went to his family, wondering if he'd lived a life worthy of them. He prayed that this too would pass without the journey through the darkness he was facing again. This time he knew there was no Hugh on the hill to help if his aim was off, and his family was too far away to comfort him if he lay dying. Yet he reasoned it was better this way, "to get it done." He knew what he had to do this time, and he pushed all other thoughts, fears, reservations and hopes from his mind, and set himself for the draw.

As he readied himself, Adam' thought about the time he'd drawn his gun with his father in a test of speed, and recalled the words his father had spoken. "You know, Randall, there's no one watching this time to see who draws first, so let's just draw at the same time and make this a real fight instead of a sham. My father once told me that speed is only an advantage if your aim is true, making this about who shoots better. So instead of standing here all day waiting for me to draw, how about one of us count to three and we pull. You want to do the count or should I?" He watched as Randall's expression went from questioning to understanding.

"Why don't you do it, kid. I gotta say, you grown up some since the last time I saw you."

Adam saw it now: the fear in Randall's eyes. After Adam was shot the first time, Hugh had given his assessment of Randall, saying that the man had never faced a worthy opponent. Those words were the truth. He was sure that Randall had counted on Adam being the same clueless teen he'd faced a few months back—probably even more scared now because of what he'd gone through afterwards. His request that they draw at the same time had ended that illusion, and he saw that Randall understood that he was facing a man who was confident of his skill and sure in his purpose.

Adam's hand hovered near the Colt's handle. This time there was no shaking; his hand was solid as steel. "Sounds fine by me. Ready? One…..Two..."

Hoss was flying through the moonlit darkness, riding bareback with Adam's horse in tow as wayward branches slapped at his face and threatened to knock him loose from his death grip on the animal's midsection. He was concentrating so intensely that he failed to see his father and Hugh in his path until he nearly ran them down.

"Hoss!" Ben cried out as he grabbed the reins to calm the frightened animal. "What in tarnation are you doing!? Where's you saddle? Where's your brother?" Ben's fear came out in a shout. "Out with it! What's going on here? If I'd have thought there'd be this kind of foolishness going on between you two, I'd never have let you come out…"

The middle son was always respectful, but this time he hollered, "Stop it, Pa!" as he cut his father off. "Ya gotta come with me. That guy…that Randall guy ain't dead at all."

"What's that got to do with you riding like a whirlwind in the dark, nearly breaking your neck in the process?" Ben had no idea why his hand was shaking as it held the leather of Hoss's steed.

With the boy and his horse settled a bit, the two adults were able to piece together what was happening, with Hugh seeming to understand what was going on more quickly. "Has Randall been following you?"

"Yeah, but he didn't show himself until tonight. Adam and I thought it was one of the hands Pa had sent, so we didn't pay much mind."

"So where's Adam? Why aren't you with him? Has something happened to him?" Ben's mouth was so dry he felt as though he was speaking through cotton.

"Oh, Pa, Hoss sobbed. I don't know what's happening back there. That guy said he came back to shoot Adam dead this time and he meant it. But Adam got him riled with some stuff he was saying and that Randall wasn't looking quite so cocky when I left."

Hugh pondered out loud, "I'm surprised Randall let you leave, Hoss, it seems like he wouldn't want any witnesses to his being alive."

"I didn't want to leave, but Adam said I had to, and there was just somethin' in his voice that made me go. I'm so sorry, Pa, I should'a stayed there."

"You did exactly the right thing, son." Ben moved his horse closer to touch Hoss's arm. "Your brother must have realized that you were in danger too and wanted to get you away from there." He stopped to think. "Were you up at the line camp?" Hoss nodded. "Well, that's good then: we would have heard shots if any had been fired, so Adam's probably talking Randall to death, instead of shooting."

Ben's thought had barely been given voice when the night's stillness was broken by a single shot from a revolver. Three horses were spurred to action as Hugh, Ben and Hoss rode toward the sound. The area seemed more familiar to Ben now and he slowed as he neared the outskirts of the camp, motioning for the others to stop and keep quiet. Whispering, he told them, "I'm going to move in and see what's happening. You two stay here until I call you."

Randal held his bloody hand to his chest. "Well you're fast now, sonny, and your aim's a little better. You actually hit me this time."

"My aim is excellent. I wanted to shoot your gun away before you could pull the trigger, and I did."

"Your aim is excellent, huh? Well why didn't you use it to take me down once and for all? Why leave me alive to pick up that gun and do what I came here for?"

"You move toward that gun, and I'll blow your trigger finger off. My father made me practice until I could shoot the whiskers off a ferret, so I can hit whatever I aim for. Can't you understand that I have no interest in killing you? As vile as you are, I keep thinking that maybe if someone gives you a break, you might change…maybe find something in your life that brings you satisfaction."

"You really are a fool, Cartwright. Can't _you_ see that what brings me 'satisfaction' is seeing you dead? So kill me and put me out of my misery or be prepared to face me again until you do."

"I'll give you a chance to ride out of here now and never come back. You said you were heading to Kansas, so go on. Do whatever it is that you need to as long as you get off our land and leave my family alone. I can't imagine that you really want to die, so think carefully before you do anything."

"I know exactly what I'm gonna do, boy. I'm gonna pick up that gun and shoot you. You do what you have to do, but I'm going to put an end to this before I go anywhere. So shoot to kill, or prepare to die. Either is fine by me."

Ben had moved to the trees behind his son, awash with relief and pride to see that the single shot had come from Adam's gun, and that both men were still alive. He heard Randall's ultimatum, and decided it was time to step in. "There'll be no killing tonight, Randall."

The gunfighter's jaw dropped as he saw Ben walking up to stand beside his son. When he could finally put his thoughts into words, he whined, "What is it with you Cartwrights? One of you can't sneeze without another one showing up to wipe your nose."

Ben chuckled wryly. "I'm surprised you have a sense of humor, but to answer your question, we Cartwrights are just a family that stands up for one another when we're threatened. You almost took my son from me once and you're not going to try it again without going through me. He has given you a chance to move along. I'd advise you to take that chance and do the best you can with it, because my son is far more generous than I. If you reach for that gun, I'll make sure you'll never use it again…on anyone. Leave your pistol where it is and get out of here. In the future, I'll order my men to shoot to kill if they ever see you on our land again."

"Sure, I'll get out of here. I know when I'm licked." Randall turned to leave, but then faltered as he went down on one knee and finally sat on the ground, groaning. "This here hand is painin' me more than I thought it would. Before I go, could you give me a hand getting' some sort of bandage on it?"

Adam looked toward his father, asking, "Have you got anything along we could use? "

It was the break Randall had hoped for. Neither of them were watching him, and in an instant he had the gun in his hand with the intention to put an end to both father and son.

A shot split the silence: then another, until there was only an echo left behind.

Hugh walked from the woods while holstering his pistol, crossed over to the body, and picked up the gun that was resting in the palm of the dead man's hand. "He never did figure out what this was for, did he?"

There was sadness in Ben's voice as he answered, "No, he never did. I told Adam that a gun is a tool: something that can serve your best purposes if you learn to use it well. But this sort of thing…this senseless drive to kill, the thought that you can use it to make others fear you or have it substitute for the courage you lack…is insanity." He looked toward Adam. "You all right, son?"

"Sure, thanks to Hugh. My aim was better and I wasn't afraid this time, but I still need to learn a bit about how far a man will go to accomplish his purpose, whether it's a good one, or one that's contorted and evil like Randall's."

"Don't worry about that Young Cartwright. You done real well and I'm proud of how you handled him." Hugh looked down at the pistol he'd taken from Randall's hand. "This is the second time I've held this man's gun, but this time I _know_ it won't be used to hurt anyone ever again and that gives me peace."

"I owe you my thanks as well, Hugh," Ben confessed. "I didn't think he'd try again."

"Kind of figured that." Hugh began to explain, "I got up to the clearing just as you told him that if any of us ever saw him wandering around here again, you'd give the order to shoot. It seemed he gave in a little too fast for my way of thinkin' and I saw that he collapsed right where his gun had fallen: caught its glint in the moonlight just as he went down. He grabbed that gun when you looked away and pointed it at Adam, so I shot. Figured it was my call since I brought this on your family by hiring him on, and I wasn't goin' to let him shoot one of my good drovers while I stood there wonderin' what to do."

"You say he was aiming at Adam, rather than me?"

"That's right. The man had a powerful hate for your son, Mr. Cartwright. Think maybe he was jealous of him or it just rankled him that someone could be as good as he seems. I figure you would'a been next, sir…that's if you'd have let him live to shoot again. The way I figure it, I just took care of the trash."

The silence was broken as Ben finally remarked, "What a waste of life and effort. No man should be thought of that way, and yet what do you say about someone like him? He had the opportunity to be so much more than he was, but he chose this path."

A happy whoop broke into the three men's thoughts as Hoss came running into camp and grabbed his older brother. "I knowed you would win, Adam. I just knowed it!"

"This wasn't anything I wanted to win or lose, Hoss. These things happen, but whatever the reason, shooting another human being isn't the right way. I'm glad Hugh ended this, but none of us are happy about it."

"I know that, Adam. I'm just happy you're alive and that the other guy….isn't."

Ben grabbed both sons by the shoulders, saying, "I think there's been enough excitement tonight. It won't be an easy trip, but the moonlight's good and we can find our way home. Why don't you come with us too, Hugh. We'll send men back here tomorrow to bury the body."

"Thanks, Mr. Cartwright, but I'm gonna find Randall's horse, throw him on it and take him somewhere else to bury. I don't want you have to see his grave after what he's put your family through. I know you won't ever forget him, but you don't need to remember him either."

The days were moving quickly as the eldest Cartwright prepared to leave. Adam still often wondered at his good fortune in finding a Harvard professor doing botanical studies on the Ponderosa. It had seemed that fate had dropped Professor Metz on their land instead of anywhere else, and Young Cartwright had taken every advantage of the opportunity. He'd talked Professor Metz into working with him and in the end had received a first rate education. If all had gone well for the professor, he would arrive at the ranch any day now to begin the trek to Boston where Adam would test at the best universities in the East.

In the year that Professor Metz had been away, Adam had worked on the basics he'd already learned, and then honed his knowledge by using the first year Harvard textbooks his mentor had arranged to have sent to Nevada. The young man had no illusions of having an easy time of school even with all his preparation. He'd be competing with others who had studied with the finest educators for years instead of trying to cram years of schooling into the quiet moments and winter months while helping to run the largest ranch in the territory. But he felt he could pass the entrance tests and once accepted he would throw himself into his studies in a purely academic setting. That made him equal parts fearful and dizzy with excitement.

The other opportunity contributing to Adam's excitement was that once he was in Boston, he would meet his grandfather. After all the years of wondering about Abel and Elizabeth Stoddard, he would finally come to know more about this side of his family. Adam knew he had to be careful not to try to extract all of his grandfather's memories at once. There would be time, and he planned to take full advantage of their years together.

Adam wasn't the only one thinking about that meeting. Even though Ben's heart was breaking at his son's pending departure, he had to admit to a serious curiosity as to what his father-in-law would think of his grandson. The older man had made a few bad decisions around the time Ben had married Elizabeth, but he'd turned his life around and had always been most encouraging of his son-in-law and supportive of his dreams. If the trip wouldn't have kept him away so long, he would have taken his son to Boston himself. He still wished he could see them meet for the first time, and watch Abel's reaction. He knew that Captain Stoddard would be filled with pride as he realized that the baby he'd bid farewell to 17 years ago had become a wonderful young man.

Adam's departure became imminent the day that Ben went into town and met Professor Metz coming out of Cass's store.

"Ah, Ben, so good to see you." The man was tanned and healthy looking from his year on the border between Arizona and Nevada. "Mr. Cass has been filling me in on the events that occurred during year I was gone as regards my star pupil." His voice took on a serious tone as he grasped Ben's elbow. "Is Adam truly all right? I imagine there was some exaggeration in the stories being told, but was he as seriously ill as they claim?"

"There was no need for exaggeration; the situation was dire. But I assure you that he is fine, well studied and eager to leave with you. He's has had a year that he will never forget…but I think there are parts he might not wish to remember.

"Are you sure you're willing to let him go after what all has happened? No second thoughts?"

"Second thoughts, Adolph? How about third, fourth and fifth thoughts. But I won't stop him. He has fulfilled his promise to me and grown into a fine man."

"Good! Then if you would be so kind, please tell him that I have arrived, and that we shall leave on Saturday. I had planned on riding to the ranch, but this meeting is opportune as it will give me more time to finalize our preparations."

Ben swallowed hard. "I'm assuming you mean this coming Saturday as in five days from now."

The professor smiled. "It is never easy to let a child go. You may have the best of intentions, yet your heart does not want to say goodbye."

"You've observed much of this over the years, I suppose: parents in obvious misery, wanting the best for their children yet not wanting to walk away and leave them behind.

The professor nodded. "The separation is always harder for some parents than others: those with the closest relationships with their sons—the most love and respect—have the hardest time. You are such a father and son, yet I know you will put on a brave face and not send Adam off with a sad heart."

Ben's voice took on a husky tone as he ended the conversation, "I'll let Adam know that I've spoken with you and have him to town early Saturday." He turned back before entering the store, "Thank you for all that you've already done, and will be doing for my son. You've brought his dream to reality: something I couldn't have done no matter how hard I tried."

Will Cass waved as Ben entered the store. "I've got mail for you today. Did you see Professor Metz outside?"

"I sure did, and he told me that you had filled him in on Adam's year of mishaps." Ben smiled as he watched Will's face turn from a welcoming smile to a look of embarrassment at being caught gossiping.

"Only the part about being shot, Ben. He asked about the family and I thought he'd be interested to know that Adam had gone through some rough times. You aren't mad are you?"

"Of course not, Will. I'm sure the professor will be regaled with all sorts of tales about Adam's misadventures in the time he's in town. Some of them might even be true."

Ben could only shake his head and sigh as he neared his homestead and saw his eldest on the barn roof. Not wanting to startle him, he rode up slowly and then called, "Adam, come down from there before you slide off! You've made it through the last few months without any further injury and I don't want you shattered into pieces now that Professor Metz is back in town."

Adam's head appeared at the edge of the barn roof as he grinned at his father. "He's back? Did you see him…talk to him…is he coming out here…?"

"Slow down, son. I'll answer your questions once you're on the ground. What are you doing up there?"

"Replacing a couple of shingles that blew off in that last storm. I don't want the hay in the loft to get wet and moldy." Once he'd made it safely down the ladder he took the reins of his father's horse, leading him into the barn. "So tell me about Professor Metz…please."

After sharing the details of the conversation, Ben grabbed a metal tube from the back of his saddle and moved toward the grain box in the corner. "Come here, Adam, I've got a little surprise for you." As he cleared the lid to use as a table, a saddle bag atop flapped open and a magazine slid out bearing the drawing of a uniformed man and a lovely young woman in a passionate kiss on its cover. "What in tarnation?" Ben paged through the magazine and then inspected the saddle bag it had been in, recognizing it as Hoss's as he repeated his thought, "What in tarnation is this!" It was not a question.

Adam knew what it was immediately and came over as his father's head of steam was reaching boiling point. "Uh, Pa, it's not what you think it is…well maybe it is what you think it is, but not for the reason you think…"

Ben glanced up at his son, while reading the opening lines of the first story. "What? I think you better explain exactly what it is…and now."

It's a romance magazine that belongs to Mrs. Smyth."

His father cut him off, "What is Hoss doing with Mrs. Smyth's magazine…especially one like this? From what I can see of these stories, they're pretty… _interesting_ for an 11-year-old."

"Hoss doesn't really know what the stories are about. Jeb Smyth gave it to him and told him to read one of the stories to me." Adam noted his father's puzzled look as he continued, "Jeb set Hoss up. I think he knew Hoss wouldn't understand what he was reading about and figured he'd get him into a little trouble or at least get a rise out of me."

"A rise out of you? I'm not following you, Adam."

"Hoss read part of a story about a man named Adam and some woman who'd given him her…a…'special gift' in a plan to get his father's money…his _rich rancher father's_ money. Jeb told Hoss that it was a story about me, and my younger brother was clueless as to what it was all about. I set him straight without really telling him anything."

Ben laughed loud and hard, clapping his oldest on the back. "Sounds like you two had a few…um… _interesting_ conversations on that trip."

Adam laughed as well admitting that they had covered a lot of ground. "I realized that Hoss has some blank spots in his knowledge that need filling—by you, Pa. You'll probably need to have that 'talk' with him pretty soon. He likes Maddy Smyth and doesn't quite understand what he's feeling. I didn't think it was my place to explain it to him. I might have figured out how much he doesn't know, but you can do the filling in."

The laughing stopped as Ben's lips pulled together in thought. "I suppose you're right. If he's starting to have feelings for a girl, I suppose I need to tell him why that is. I certainly don't want him learning it from one of these magazines."

"That's what I said. We were going to drop it off by Jeb on the way home, but you know how that turned out."

Ben continued to read the initial paragraphs of the story about Adam and Natasha, exploding in laughter as he finished. "So do women really think this is good writing?"

"Seems they might think it's a way to forget the hard lives they have out here. Jeb Told Hoss that his mother hides these under her bed, so she must not want Mr. Smyth to know what they're about." Adam watched as his father tucked the magazine back in his brother saddle bag. "Pa, did you say you had something you wanted me to see?"

Ben shook off the thought of having to have "that" conversation with his middle son, and asked, "Do you recall the day you told me our house was too small and gave me some drawing of how you would change things?"

"I do, but so much has happened since then I haven't really thought about it."

"That's what I figured. I sent those drawings to an architectural firm in Sacramento and these are the plans for your drawings." Ben opened the canister and withdrew a roll of papers that showed a rendering of the house Adam had imagined.

Adam paged through the sheets of specifications, "These are incredible, Pa. The house built with them will last forever and give us all plenty of room." He continued looking at each element of the plans, shaking his head from time to time as he found some interesting detail, and finally asked, "Are you really planning on building this someday?"

"Not someday, Adam, I've already hired a logging crew to get the lumber prepared and once that's done, we'll get started on the building. I'm figuring it will take some time, but we should have much of it completed by the time you get home from Boston. And once you're back we can add the final details."

"I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything. I wanted to let you know how important you are to this family…to me. I don't know what we'll do without you, but you deserve to tackle your dreams."

The young man whispered, "Thank you, Pa," as he paged through the drawings again.

The Cartwright family, including Hop Sing, accompanied Adam to town on Saturday morning. The trip began with laughter as they recalled memories of their youthful "foolishment" as Hop Sing had always called the boys' antics. But the voices in the wagon muted as they neared their destination. They had known this day was coming and yet it had always seemed so far in the future that no one had really thought about what it would be like to say goodbye.

They reached their destination and found the wagon Professor Metz had prepared waiting in front of the boarding house. Hop Sing had brought along enough canned goods to feed an army for a year, and while Ben helped him transfer the boxes to the other wagon, Hoss shyly handed his brother a wooden horse he'd carved. "I want you to have this, Adam. It's the first thing I ever whittled that really looks like what it's supposed to be. Maybe if you get lonesome, you can grab this here little feller and remember what it's like back here in the middle of nowhere."

Adam turned the small carving in his hands, "This is wonderful, Hoss. I can't wait to see what you'll be carving by the time I get back. Maybe you can send me a new piece from time-to-time."

"Sure. I can do that. Maybe by the time you come home, you'll have a stable full of wooden horses." Hoss laughed as he grabbed his older brother around his shoulders in a brief hug. "I bet I'll be taller'n you when you get back. Then I'll grab you and never let you go anywhere again."

"I'll miss you, Hoss." Adam clapped his middle brother on the back, and then turned his attention to his youngest sibling. "I'm going to miss you too Little Joe."

"I got something for you too, Adam." The child produced a picture he'd drawn and began to point out the representations. "This here tall fella is Pa, and you're next, then Hoss and me.

Next to the figures of the Cartwright men was a smaller drawing of a man with a long braid. Adam pointed to it and asked, "Is this Hop Sing?

"Yup. I don't want you to forget any of us but this can help you remember if you ever do."

Adam knelt on one knee next to the youngster and drew him to his side. "I will never forget any of you, Little Joe, but thanks for the reminder. I'll think of you especially when I look at this." Lowering his voice, he added, "Don't let Hoss boss you around too much while I'm gone. That's my job and I intend to take up where I left off when I get back."

Joe's giggles made Hoss ask what he found so funny. "Nothin'. Adam just remembered something silly from our camping trip."

Adam was amazed at Little Joe's quick thinking and could only wonder what their pa would be going through over the next five years. In some ways he was very glad he would be gone, while in other ways he was already grieving the loss of so many years while his brother's grew up.

Ben and Professor Metz had gone over a few last details while the boys had said their goodbyes. As he approached Adam, he remembered what professor had recommended, and he took a deep breath. He set his face with a smile to send his son off on his adventure. "Well, son, Professor Metz wants to get moving, so this is goodbye. I've given Adolph a bank note for your grandfather that should cover the early expenses you'll incur, and will send more once we know how much you'll need."

"Thanks, Pa."

"I don't need to tell you to study hard or to keep out of trouble…well, trouble of your own making anyway. But I will tell you to enjoy this time. Give my regards to Abel, and make sure you write to tell me how he's doing."

"I will, Pa. I'll expect letters from you too so that I'll know what's going on with the ranch and those two." Adam pointed to his brothers. "I know I'll be missing some very interesting years with them."

Professor Metz broke into the conversation as he came to stand next to his pupil. "It's time, Adam. We must head out or we'll miss our supply train in Culver City. I've learned a lot over these years out west, but I could never get us across country without their help."

Ben draped an arm around his son. "Make me proud, Adam. You always have in the past, so I wouldn't expect you to change now."

"I don't know what to say, Pa."

"You've been having that problem the last few days," the father teased. "Say goodbye, then get on that wagon and begin your journey. You've wanted this for so long that you can't look back or have second thoughts. When I left Boston with you as a baby, your grandfather told me to carry your mother in our hearts, but not on our shoulders. It was good advice, and I'll send you with the same thought. We'll be here waiting for you when you come home." Ben shook his son's hand, until finally pulling him into an embrace. "Goodbye, Adam."

"Goodbye, Pa. I'll be home sooner that you can imagine. Thank you for everything, especially believing in me."

Abigail and Mrs. Jones exited the mercantile with the Cass family to add to the send-off and stood waving their goodbyes along with the Cartwrights until they could no longer see the young man waving back at them.

Ben continued to stand in the street long after the others had resumed their activities, experiencing a moment of panic, wondering what he'd just allowed to happen. Had he really just sent his son off across the country alone, and what would he do if the boy fell in love with his life in the East or his dreams took him away from the Ponderosa instead of back to it? There were no answers, but his sadness lifted as he felt the hope of all parents who have watched a child grow into a person of character and promise. Ben was still watching the last dust spirals of the wagon bearing its precious cargo, wishing he could have secretly stowed away to ensure his son's safety, when he felt a tugging at his pants leg.

"C'mon, Pa. You can't see nothing anymore. Adam's gone, but we're still here and starvin', so let's get that candy you promised."

Ben smiled down at his youngest son. "You do have a way of giving me perspective, Little Joe. Let's go."

The two boys ran out ahead, while Hop Sing made his way to his boss's side. "Everything is all right, Mr. Cartlight?"

The Cartwright cook had posed the same question to Ben some months back when he'd brought Adam home after the castor oil incident. Just as then, the father now considered all that went into answering such a question. His oldest son was gone and his life would be different in ways he couldn't even imagine yet. He'd had the boy for 17 years, but it wasn't long enough, and knew he'd feel his son's absence for the entire time he'd be away. He wondered how he would face tomorrow without seeing him across the table or going to him with an idea. Yet he reasoned he'd go on as he always had: one step at a time. As he took that first step, he looked at Hop Sing and replied sincerely, "Everything is fine."

The End


End file.
